Similar, but make it Different. But still Similar
The creak of the wooden panel was loud, but did not disturb the ambiance of the home, especially not with Eat Bulaga showing on the TV screen. Its rays bathed the cold cement walls and flooring with multicolored light, as colorful as the pillows on the bed that’s facing it. Well, not a single bed, or even a huge bed, but rather multiple cushions pushed together to form one a-little-bit-bigger-than-King-sized bed. Surveying the home, there’s a small kitchen behind the television and a set of cement staircase that leads up to another room.
Two tiny pairs of eyes peer up at me and my partner, new, unfamiliar faces entering their humble abode. Their heads turn to the side, as do mine, mirroring their antics. Observing everything gave me flashbacks to a part of my childhood, when I used to live with my grandmother when the rest (parents and brother) moved to the province. I remember saying yes anyway, despite not fully understanding the implications of “leaving me here with lola for a while,” and by a while they mean until I finish the first grade. So I spent my time going to school via school bus and having class in the morning, and in the afternoon I played with the other kids outside. I never really realized our financial status until later in life when I started to become more aware of social structures and hierarchies.
My mother’s side never had a lot of money, only enough for them to live a simple life. I never associated extravagance or luxury to that side of my family, which is pretty dichotomous to my dad’s side of the family. I made this connection when I compared the living conditions of my grandparents on both sides. Due to this, I’ve been aware of two different kinds of living situations and I was never blinded to the fact that some are less fortunate than others. This became increasingly apparent to me the more my family’s living conditions improved as the years went by, and the more I started asking for stuff I wanted, and when I got my first iPhone and started comparing everyone to myself like the insecure teenager that I became to be.
Walking slowly to put my bags down, I try to start interaction with the children. Their gazes linger on my face whenever I try to initiate contact, apprehensive with my presence. All the while the sound of laughter can be heard in the background, and in my mind I thought to myself that I want to try and get close to these children and make the most out of my stay here. I can also hear the soft chatter of my partner talking to the woman of the foster family we were assigned to, one ear listening in and the other paying attention to the two children. They were starting to warm up to me despite being uneasy with me at first.
Going to GK Central, and to the home assigned to me did not only bring me feelings of familiarity, but also foreign ones. The sense of community I got from hearing their story reminded me of my community back in Bayanan, the town my lola lives and where I lived for a while as well. The way the houses are constructed also invoked familiar feelings too. However, this was still a totally new experience to me. Meeting and spending time the woman that accommodated us into our home was a whole experience in and of itself. She’s a quiet woman, she wouldn’t really say anything unless we asked or talked to her. Her reception was warm and I certainly believe she’s more of an action-based person. Watching her navigate through her day and talking to her about her life is something that stuck with me, for the mundanity of it all made me see even more clearly that these people are just trying to get by life like everyone else, only with different circumstances.
Bonding with the children took most of my energy, but it’s very fulfilling. Now my partner and I are helping them set up a small booth outside that sells kwek-kwek and buko pandan. It was scorchingly hot, yet the children continued to play around. Their dynamic reminds me of me and my brother, whenever the older sister would push around the younger brother. Ate Josie and her daughters laughed and told us that she always pinches and terrorizes her brother but the young boy fights back. I laugh with them because that sounds exactly like me and my brother from when we were younger.
Looking back, no matter how similar my experience in GK Central may be to parts of my life and how I was raised, there’s no denying that they’re still completely different from one another. Unlike them, I don’t live with my lola anymore. I live inside a fairly large house, and sleep in my own bed. I don’t set up shop in my village to sell kwek-kwek, and I hardly know anyone in my village either. It’s similar to some aspects of my life but both me and Ate Josie know that we’re different and we have different experiences as people. Hell, we’re probably walking towards different directions as we speak, with different goals and aspirations in our hearts.
And even so, I can still relate with her and her children. Even if I don’t fully understand them and their struggles, I can empathize and listen.
With the recent conclusion to the elections, I can’t help but think back to those living in the community. With the people in the senate right now, the laws that they will pass will certainly affect them more than me. Because I do admit that I’m up on a hill. But that doesn’t mean I can just stay up here. Even if Ate Josie and her family and I are inherently different, I’m sure that we all want the best for everyone in this country. That I can say with complete certainty, and with this experience, it makes me want to fight for the right thing even more.
Standing under an umbrella as Ate Josie fries the kwek-kwek, her daughters mixing the batter and her grandchildren trying to push each other on the ground, fills me with a sense of tranquility. I don’t know if it’s just uncharacteristically quiet in the city right now or the great placement of the community, but seeing them live out their day like this is nostalgic and fills me with a sense of purpose. I was apprehensive at the BINHI program at first, but I’m happy I have this memory to take home with me because of it.
I want to work towards my dream with this memory and these people I’ve met in mind, and hopefully new ones in the future to fuel me to make this country better, especially with what has happened to communities like theirs and what might happen in the years to come.
Because I’m not only working towards my dream for myself, but for others as well.
dededos
blakekathryn
2087
vaporwave
kaledo-art
andulkaphoto
jacobvanloon
